


目

by hakuzo_k



Category: Natsume Yuujinchou | Natsume's Book of Friends
Genre: Blood, Gen, Gore, Mystery, Suspense
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-05-21
Updated: 2014-05-31
Packaged: 2018-01-26 01:13:15
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 5
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1669247
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/hakuzo_k/pseuds/hakuzo_k
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>「Eye」; the meaning behind the Natsume name.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Seven

**Author's Note:**

> A non-pairing fic for once. Enjoy!

The head of the Matoba clan’s eye unnerves me. When he shows me a glimpse of it, he sounds spitefully amused, like he thought I would enjoy the scar and that I would be offended that he still had the eye. 

The scar is, as he said — _horrible_. The shut eye looks like a clawed hand tried to gouge it out, but missed, slicing a line under his eye.

He tells me that it began from his brow to under his eye. He admits he was scared, not expecting the position of the clan-head would pass on to him so quickly, so unexpectedly. The clan members were prepared though (“thankfully,” he adds), and were able to tend to Matoba’s eye with treatment and the iconic eyepatch.

Generations ago, the head promised his right eye to an ayakashi in exchange for its service. The promise was never fulfilled. To this day, the ayakashi still targets the right eye of the Matoba’s head figure.

Something heavy, dreading and angry, drops into my chest, stifling my breath. I feel even more restrained than the paper seals bounding my wrists. My mind pounds out questions and demands. ‘What does the eye look like? Show it to me. Don’t you have it?’

I’ve seen this before, or, I feel that I have. But in the end, it’s only a glimpse. He pulls away when he’s interrupted by his colleagues, a small indication of irritation in his furrowed brow.

I’m not able to see the promised eye.

I never thought I’d be so scared, so careful, so _intrigued_ after I met this man.  

_“When we first met, I had mistaken you for an ayakashi. Your eyes are an unusually light color; it’s difficult to differentiate them from an ayakashi’s. I think they’re fascinating.”_

Ever since he wrapped his hands around my neck, and I made a mark on his arm, we have crossed paths since, connected by an invisible bond. There is something strange, something missing, that I don’t know.


	2. One

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Ayakashi and youkai are often used interchangeably, but here ayakashi are referred to as less powerful spirits than youkai.
> 
> shiki: ayakashi servant

Is this how we're always going to meet? With me restrained or kidnapped?

Not long after I meet him, I stumble upon the clan in the Eastern Forest. They relocated there for some time in hopes of obtaining a powerful youkai to serve them.

Upon escaping shiki and clan members, I find myself in a storage room. It's eerie, and strange, with archaic kanji decorating scrolls and various sealing pots and other exorcism materials.

All of it gives me a sickening feeling. Maybe I should have listened to that instinct to prepare myself.

But then a hand grabs my wrist, pulling me back. My skin prickles, both hot and cold, angry and fearful.

"Sneaking up here like this; it's almost as though you're a cat ayakashi."

My heart pounds harshly in my chest. Hopefully he doesn't hear.

Matoba brings me and the pot I held to a sitting room. Tea is quickly prepared, but I stray from touching and looking at it or him.

"It's not poisoned."

I become more wary, even insulted. I give Matoba a suspicious look.

"You had it rough, Natsume Takashi."

I flinch, surprised that he knew my name. "...Why," I find myself questioning aloud. How did he find out…?

He raises his face from his cup — vigilant, purposeful. With that red eye on me, I clench my hands. Something heavy weighs me down again ( _like before_ ). Something angry and desperate and betrayed. I'm tempted to sip the tea to at least distract myself from that feeling.

His secretary, he informs me. He recites my history — the relatives, my grandmother, the Fujiwara.

I don't answer him. He doesn't need my answers or to know anything more about me.

As I move to leave, an ayakashi pulls on me, demanding that I couldn't leave when Matoba is still talking. When Sensei breaks into the room and we try to make our escape, the exorcist throws a talisman to stop him.

Why did he insist on keeping me around?

That is when I learn of the Matoba clan. The Matoba are especially skilled in archery, defending villages from ayakashi attacks in former days. Soon after, the clan compromised of other notable families with the ability to see ayakashi, thus beginning the exorcism business.

Why did he insist on telling me these things?

Matoba still demands I tell him about Reiko. There is nothing more that I know about her.

The exorcist must think that I was lying when he begins an incantation on the pot. When I tell him to stop, he questions why. I'm not its friend, I don't have anything to gain, there is no contract. After a moment, his lips curve into a wide grin, and suggest the reason is that I'm seduced by ayakashi and have grown attached. Why else would I protect them? I'm shunned by humans; I reach out to something that still responds to me.

No. I meet kind humans _and_ kind ayakashi.

Matoba remains quiet, surveying me, before plucking the pot from my hands. The graze of his fingers startle me (and something else, _something else_ stirs within, prickly and hot), but I reach out to take it despite.

"Your heart has been completely stolen away by ayakashi." Matoba seizes my eyes with the proclamation. "Wake up, Natsume Takashi, they deceive and betray humans."

Not all do, I want to tell him.

"...Wouldn't you understand?" he asks with a smile. I furrow my brows in anger and insult.

Perhaps he's the one that doesn't.


	3. Two

A promise should always be kept. Something meaningful is exchanged in this non-physical contract of words. It can be easily broken this way, but it doesn't mean the penalty is any less harsh, but perhaps  _worse_.

Aren't you supposed to swallow a hundred needles if you do?

I wonder how many promises the Matoba clan has broken, or is it just the current head? Is their reputation always along these lines of deception and coercion? I can understand why so many of these people gossip, but again, perhaps it's just humans being as malicious as ever.

I think he chose this disguise in bad taste. (A 'shiki' of his.) But it makes sense in case I have to be around him or assist him with something.

 _I can't have their eyes on you_ , is his excuse. Matoba's grin is teasing, but not bad-natured.

Although again (unwarranted), I come into contact with him. When he grabs my hand, coldness surges through my body. My heart hammers, afraid and alert and angry. A cool wetness sweeps across my palm — a charm written in black ink.

"I can't write charms on my shiki. You really are convenient."

I pull my hand away when he finishes, studying the black symbols on my palm. The cool ink gradually hardens, but it's nothing permanent. Nothing like a tattoo. Nothing like what Natori bears on his body — A spirit that lives on his body.

It never reaches Natori's left leg, which always causes him great distress. Why would it not go there? Matoba suggests that it may be because it will disappear one day. But that is typical of ayakashi, he adds. They are troublesome and unpredictable, ambiguous and strange. They terrorize people's hearts with these things.

Moving closer, he breaches my area of comfort; I breath in too quickly, resulting in a sharpness in my chest, but I hold my stance with only a twinge. By his approach, I'm able to have a clearer view of his face, or more so, the eyes of the Matoba's figurehead — a bastardized red eye intact and a securely fastened seal over the other (never permitting a look at the supposed, wretched scar or expose it to the shadowing danger).

_I want to tear it off._

"Eliminating ayakashi is the work of us exorcists." Pausing, he passes his eye down my frame. I swear I can feel his fingers brush down my robes, whether absently or intentionally, I don't know nor for what purpose. "Whenever you return home, have you ever thought that any sort of misfortune that has occurred there is the fault of yourself and the ayakashi?"

...What?

"How long can you endure that?" He looks genuinely interested, but why does that even matter to him? The only reason I'm of interest to him is because I have a strong ability to sense youkai.

Past the paper seal across my face, my eyes flicker up to his. He hasn't moved any closer. And it's strange — something smells good. I open my mouth to speak, but instead breathe the distance between us. Once I shut my mouth, my tongue minds my canines. That strange smell is intriguing and different; perhaps I'm hungry.

Matoba blinks, watching me all the while. Maybe he thinks I'm going to say something, but a scream interrupts us and releases me from that captivation.

I will never join his clan. I have my own way of dealing with ayakashi. Before I run off towards the source of the shout, I catch a strange grin from Matoba. I don't need help from someone like him.

I'm neither ayakashi nor exorcist. I am not part of 'us', nor am I part of 'them'. Insinuating either makes me feel ill. Never should you use those terms so loosely.

Unintentionally, I come across a group of exorcists gossiping about the recent attacks. Instead of gaining a lead on the mask ayakashi, I gain knowledge of the Matoba clan. It's information that Matoba himself didn't disclose to me, but it affirms the hunch I have about him. He can't make contracts with decent ayakashi or people, but instead has to exploit their weakness or control them with spells. His eye is proof of a broken promise.

They even suspect that I, the 'shiki that Matoba brought along', is too good to be true. The only reason I must be here is because Matoba took advantage of my weakness.

Hastily, I duck by and move along.

The ayakashi is still on the loose.

Later on, upon cornering the rampant ayakashi, Matoba destroys it with a single enchanted arrow. That is the first time I'm able to watch him wield the weapon so closely. I can't help but be impressed, yet underneath I feel threatened. Would he ever use that against humans, or me?

"It's said that you can retain great power by having 'dealings' with powerful ayakashi. If you join the clan, I can protect you, as long as I am the head whose eye is targeted by a great ayakashi."

I mind him silently. He already knows my answer, but he continues to insist even now. He's an exorcist, a hunter; he's used to tailing prey.

I collect myself and Nyanko-sensei to leave.

"How did you contract with such a big youkai?"

It's a question I can't ignore.

"I didn't make a contract. I made a promise."

A promise I intend to keep, never abandon, never destroy.


	4. One

To whom do I side with? Ayakashi, or human? Why can't it be both? I can't choose between them. There's no way that I can. Both human and ayakashi have helped me, have hurt me, have loved me, have left me. For both of them, I feel my body move forward without thought, regardless of those that ask dubious questions. 'Why?' 'Are they your friends?' 'Don't they hurt you?'

I can't explain it. Nor do I think I ever could. Everything (a term I still haven't defined) is at stake if I don't take action, or defend, whoever it is.

It always comes as instinct.

Traveling to Tanuma's house, I'm stopped by an ayakashi I had not met before. It looks like it is unfamiliar with the area, stretching out its arms and moving its body around for a sense of direction. It wears a white kimono with a pretty crest on its sleeve and a green obi. It notices me and flies across the forest floor. Used to strange advances of ayakashi, I step back warily.

"Ohh…" its voice shook, its hand reaches out to me, my face, my eyes — I pull back. It watches me for a moment — quiet, still. "I'm sorry, child," it begins in a low, booming voice. My breath is taken away from the pitch and nostalgic familiarity. Who is this…? "But, aren't you from the Natsume clan?"

...Clan? Was there ever such a thing? Bewildered, wide-eyed, I shake my head in denial. I never heard of… that. It must be talking about my grandmother. Maybe it thinks that's what all families are — clans are more preserved as nobility nowadays.

"You're mistaken. There's never been a 'Natsume' clan."

The ayakashi keeps a heavy stare down on me. It doesn't sway or speak or even tilt its head. "...No, I'm certain," comes its resounding voice. "Natsume Reiko. Is your grandmother. There was a Natsume clan, yes?"

I try to breathe in, but there's no air. Again, I shake my head, backing away from the ayakashi with my hands clenched on my bag. "Reiko… is my grandmother, but there was never a clan." My heart hammers in my chest, cramming into the space of my breath and ribs.

The ayakashi creeps forward, a hand stretched out again. "No." I'm stopped by its bold tone and watch it carefully. I lock my feet to the ground, dismissing the pounding and fear in my heart and gut.

This is different.

"Your eyes are from the Natsume clan." Its hands are placed on both sides of my head, peering into my eyes. "I know those eyes. The blessed and cursed Natsume; those that have great spiritual power and suffer because of it."

Its hands. Its voice. So familiar. I'm put into a subdued memory.

Once loyal. Once proud. Part of a powerful family.

A name I've never heard of comes to my lips. "Megi?"

It strokes my brow with a thumb, minding my face. "...Yes, former Master Natsume. I was afraid Reiko was the last. But it seems you are."

Although subdued, drugged in a memory not mine, I touch the hand stroking my brow. The ayakashi's eyes flicker to mine, hold, and expect my response. It knows what I'm about to ask; its face falls, tries to pull away in vain, to spare my feelings and ignorance.

"What happened to the Natsume clan?"

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> 目木: 「Megi」, Japanese barberry (bird)


	5. Three

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Warning: There is violence, blood, and eye gore in the following chapter. Read at your own risk.

The Natsume clan used to be influential, although unusual. It was different to the other clans in the area. It didn't specialize in exorcisms or offenses. They valued both ayakashi and human. It was rumored that ayakashi belonged to the clan not only as shiki. There was a mix of humans and of ayakashi that led to half-breeds known as hanyou. Those half-blooded were distinguishable by their strangely colored eyes. Most were quiet about the Natsume's practices, but their spiritual power was widely known, amplified by the support of ayakashi and mixed-blood.

As the strongest exorcist clan during the time, the Matoba often had dealings with the Natsume. There had been times of conflict because of their opposing views (the mix of blood, the enacted harmony), but there continued to be an exchange of shiki and the development of effective, less harmful jutsu.

But there was an event that halted that productive, peaceful association. The head of the Matoba clan desired a contract with a member from the Natsume clan. No one recalled if the member was a youkai or hanyou, but a contract was constructed regardless. The member would only contract under a certain condition: that it would obtain the right eye of the head of the Matoba clan. When the time had come to select the Matoba's next successor, the shiki demanded payment. But it was never fulfilled. The exorcist had passed the succession to the next leader and had sealed their right eye. The contract never dissolved, and the shiki continued to seek the right eye it was promised.

I come to retrieve that eye.

"Na-tsu-me," Matoba sounds out each syllable, testing the meaning of the name. "I knew there was something more suspicious about you when we first met; even your name reflects your appearance. I should have followed that initial instinct. Who knew you had tainted blood? I wonder if it actually is possible to make you a shiki if you don't want to willingly join the clan as an exorcist."

"I have no intention of either. You have to offer what was promised."

"...are you perhaps the youkai that has been targeting me all these years?" He looks me up and down. I clench my fists and stare back fiercely. I'm not going to be intimidated or provoked. "No… I'm not sure that is possible. Unless it resides in you now. Or do all members have an obligation to mend a breached contract?"

"…"

"How about we make a contract, Natsume? I will give you this promised eye if you work with me." Matoba saunters over to a wooden cabinet, probably in search of contract materials.

"It has already been promised," I remind him in a loud voice, "unless you want both of your eyes removed."

Matoba slowly turns to me. His face is blank, but I have been warned before of his temper. He takes a step toward me. When I stumble back, my heart skips with a sharp beat, afraid of falling. He doesn't take threats from others.

"Or I can forcibly make you a shiki," his voice strains with a smile.

"I'm still human," I remind in a choked voice. He doesn't seem deterred, but raises his eyebrows, testing me. "I'm only here to retrieve the eye." My resolve is faltering, shaking with my voice and hands. The cunning man that he is sees this and offers again.

"It'd be a shame if the last Natsume blood is disposed or enslaved. Disclosing your identity really was a mistake, Natsume. If you had gotten closer to me, you would have had an easier time to retrieve this offering." Matoba slips his fingers under the eye-patch. My skin pricks as I watch the fingers lift. The shadow of the patch casts onto his cheek.

A feral urge consumes my mind. Leaning and grabbing onto the exorcist, my hand reaches for his cheek, but there is a power that still holds me back from ripping the damned thing off. So close. Just pull it a little more. Expose the cursed object.

A whine and a growl escapes from me, desperate and frustrated at the man I push myself against. None of this feels like me. Never have I made such a noise or behaved this way. Never have I been filled with such a consuming lust for receiving a promised offering.

"Despite you being dangerous, you're a very valuable being."

An arm slips around my back, pulling me flush against the exorcist. The proximity is too much, too hot, and too controlling, like I'm already his. Dropping his fingers from his face, I stare wide-eyed and glare.  _That eye belongs to me._

"I'm sure my guard would have slipped ever since I decided you to be human. But since you retain mixed blood, I really can't trust you, can I?"

" _Give it to me_ ," I snarl, clawing into and pulling the sides of his robes. He chuckles lowly and places his hand on mine to remove it.

"I wonder if you really are a cat youkai. What do you think? Are you the youkai that has been hunting me all these years, or are you being possessed by it?"

I tear my hand from his kimono and scratch against the seal. Nothing happens, only the sound of nails against paper. He twists my hand in his, eliciting a yelp. A single red eye remains on mine, but I keep my focus on the damned seal, clenching and scratching against it.

"Why isn't your beast here to help you? It was a mistake not to bring it."

"I don't want anyone else involved. This has been between our clans for generations." I shriek again when he bends my wrist further. I leave the eye for now so that I can tear off his grip.

"You'll never get this eye, Natsume."

Gripping me, pulling me back, is Matoba's downfall. I push forward, which he doesn't anticipate. He looses his footing and we both fall to the floor. I swear I can feel his panic, taste his racing heartbeat. His struggling becomes frantic and he no longer clings to my clothes, but instead rips at them and shoves. I don't budge, I can't budge. This is the enlightened opportunity. This is how the Natsume clan is going to retrieve their long-awaited promise.

Despite his dying struggle, stubborn to the very end, Matoba's eye still flicker with purpose. I'm sure he left a scar on me (like I did on his arm when we first met). I slip my fingers under the paper seal, pulling up to reveal my prize, revel in the marred scar (just as eloquently described by him from earlier days).

It's tossed to the side without any more thought. I slide my nails along the socket; the eyelid twitches, daring to open and expose the contract written within. Faint, but undeniably cursed. My fingers form into a vice and press.

A resolved sigh.

No more resistance.

"Head of the Matoba Clan, our contract is, at last, complete."

Warm and thick, sticky, saturating into the ridges of my fingertips. His screams are distant in my mind as I feel the burn of his fingernails digging into my arms, but I already reach the connecting tendrils. I burn with excitement, my nerves and heart flare, want and need and resolution finally being plucked by my very fingers.

Holding up the eyeball to what little light that filters into the room, I can fully read the cursed script etched into it. I rotate it around and back to the red pupil, fascinated by its hue now that I can bring it closer to me without danger.

Without warning, neither a word nor a signal, the eye disappears from my palm in a dull light, leaving a pool of blood instead.

My hands shake,

my heart shakes,

as I'm left in this dangerous silence.

Is this it?

Is this what my duty entailed?

Where had the eye gone to?

No longer do I muse through baffling questions or thoughts as a body crashes into mine. It pins me to the floor with legs on top of mine and two hands squeeze my neck. Someone yells above me, their anger dripping and departing with the receding youkai state.

"If this is your true form, I will put it to optimal use. I will personally see to it that you become a servant to the Matoba clan once more. You will receive no offering nor mercy, your willingness manipulated. Blame your cursed, dirty blood for your damnation."

No longer do I feel warm or righteous or invincible. My skin spikes in cold fear as the primal urge fades away. The dark haze clears from my eyes and mind. The only thing I can settle on is to get air into my lungs. Somehow.

Choked and out-of-breath, I try to kick out my legs and pry Matoba's hands off of my throat. But there is no strength, no support, no one, nothing left. I'm abandoned after I retrieved the promise, buried beneath an exorcist scrambling retribution for his removed eye. Betrayed and deserted, my eyes water.

Managing to slip out a leg, I knee Matoba in the side. He collapses easily, already weakened from the blood loss and dwindling adrenaline, and pulls my neck in the direction of his fall. I scramble and scratch and shove at the exorcist, finally able to break free from Matoba's imposed fate.

Terrified — from his blood, my actions, the pounding adrenaline inciting me to act — I hastily flee, marked guilty by the blood dripping from my hands. Neither servants nor clan members follow or beckon. Through the looming gates, down the heavily wooded forest, across the open field with the unnamed hokora, over the wooden arched bridge, far, far off from the abandoned manor reclaimed by the Matoba clan.

The air I heave in stabs the back of my throat.

I make it home — to the gate, the front door, up the stairs, the sliding door, my room, collapsing onto the floor.

Touko calls after me, no doubt because of the thundering noises, no doubt because of the blood left on the things I touched.

I hear Nyanko-sensei pad around my head, feel the air he puffs from sniffing. I cringe when his tongue laps once at a finger smeared with Matoba's blood.

"I guess it really is that bastard exorcist's blood."

He won't be angry, that I know. He hates the exorcist and has offered to kill the man himself. In the end it is me who has severely hurt Matoba. The injury can be fatal, but he has servants and attendants. He will be healed. He will have revenge on his mind.

_"I will personally see to it that you become a servant to the Matoba clan once more."_

Remembering his words, I cringe and fold into myself, feeling nauseous from dread and the smell of Matoba's blood on my hands.

He will come after me with a more resolute objective than before.

I may become a shiki to the Matoba clan once more.

I reach out to pet Nyanko-sensei's fur. The blood has dried by then, nothing rubs off onto his white hairs. Instead, his content purrs vibrate against my hand and unsticks the voice from my throat.

"The youkai finally taken its eye from Matoba."

"Takashi?" Touko calls again, contained fear leaving her soft voice.

Upset, I push my fingers deeper into the cat's body.

"Good," Nyanko-sensei puffs out. My hand sinks into his body with the exhale. "I'm sure you are finally sated with your interest in that exorcist."

He knew.

I sigh and squeeze his side.

"I would hate to think that we're fated to be involved with each other in some way, but I think that it will continue on forever."

\- 終わり -

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I didn't intend for the final scene to be so long, and violent and bloody. As for the strange chapter titles, they correspond with the amount of words you read at the beginning of each chapter. Thanks for reading!
> 
> hanyou: half-youkai/half-human  
> hokora: miniature Shinto shrine, dedicated to folk gods or part of a larger shrine


End file.
